A Cowgirl's Christmas by C. J. Carmichael Read Free Book Online Page A

touch of Sage’s fruit salad the meal was delicious and no one stopped eating until the food was all gone.
    “So what’s the plan today?” Wren asked. She was Mattie’s studious child, quiet to the point of being a loner at times. “I’d like to work on a research paper that’s due next week, if there’s time.”
    “Absolutely,” Mattie said. “What about you, Portia? Do you need study time, too?”
    Portia, the more social of the twins, glanced at her aunt Dani—who had been her psychology prof last year— then shook her head. “Nope. I’m good. I was hoping we could go on a trail ride?”
    Callan’s heart plummeted. Normally she loved nothing more than taking her nieces out for a good long ride. But with her father’s death and the stupid terms of his will, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to enjoy horseback riding on the Circle C again.
    “Eliot and I were talking about taking a ride to check on the progress of the fencing,” Nat said. “Dawson was going to join us after he dropped Savannah off at school. Why don’t you come with us?”
    Suddenly Wren looked tempted, as well. “I suppose I could work on my paper later.”
    “Good plan,” Mattie said. As she exchanged glances with Sage and Dani, Callan realized this had been set up earlier. Her sisters had just cleared the deck so the four of them could have some spare time together.
    An hour later, Callan found out why.
    “This is our chance,” Mattie said. “I’ve been dying to check those boxes of mom’s since I arrived, but I felt we should wait until the reading of the will, at least.”
    “Oh. Right.” Callan had forgotten about the boxes their father kept locked in a trunk in his closet. “Except—I have no idea where he keeps the key.”
    Sage pulled a small crowbar out of a canvas bag she’d tucked under the table. “Not a problem.”
    Callan laughed. They all did.
    “This is crazy,” Dani said. “But I’m all in. Just let me settle baby Bev in her crib. She’s due for her morning nap, anyway.”
    “Oh, let me!” Mattie said, holding out her arms. “I need a cuddle.”
    Twenty minutes later they were all in their parents’ bedroom, a room Callan rarely entered since Nora did the vacuuming, dusting and laundry. The room was neat. Hawksley always made his bed and put away his clothing when he changed. Few traces of his personality could be found in the room that had been decorated by Beverly Carrigan more than thirty years ago. The quilt was threadbare, but it was still the one that had been stitched together by great aunt Mabel for their parents’ wedding.
    “I feel weird being in here,” Sage said.
    No doubt she was still bothered by her memories of their mother and Bill Sheenan. Callan was glad she hadn’t been the one home sick from school that day. She felt certain the sight would have scarred her for life.
    “Let’s get to it.” Dani opened the closet and grabbed one side of the trunk. Mattie grabbed the other and together they slid the trunk over the floor and out to the center of the room.
    Callan took the crowbar from Sage and jammed it into the space between the lid and the box. The lock gave more easily than she expected.
    For a moment they just looked at one another. Then Dani nodded at Mattie. “You’re the oldest. Open it.”

CHAPTER FOUR
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    W ith theatrics befitting a Hollywood horror film Mattie eased the lid upward and the old hinges obligingly creaked. Callan knelt in front of the trunk beside Mattie and was soon joined by Dani and Sage.
    Four yellowed envelopes sat on top of a pile of folded quilts, each of their names written in their mother’s script.
    “Oh my God.” Tears started flowing from Mattie’s eyes. “If I’d known this trunk contained a letter to me from Mom, I’d have opened this years ago.”
    “Me, too,” Dani agreed.
    And yet they didn’t snatch up the envelopes. Callan felt spellbound. “Mom was the last person to touch